


We're All A Little Fucked Up

by SchrodingersMonster



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Anger Management, Blind Character, Disabled Character, F/F, F/M, Kleptomania, M/M, Mental illness AU, Mute!Armin, OCD, Physical Abuse, Self Harm, annie doesnt end up with anyone sorry, domestic abuse, eren's dad is an asshole, in one eye, lots of trigger warnings, marco is blind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:11:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchrodingersMonster/pseuds/SchrodingersMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren Jaeger is here because he had a breakdown at school and kicked the living shit out of another student. And everyone else in this ward seems to be just as batshit as him. </p><p>The SNK gang in a psych ward AU where theyre all fucked up teens who need a little help to make it through. A lot of Jean and Eren bickering. Also Hanji is kind of a terrible doctor.</p><p>Main pairings will be Eremin and JeanMarco. Everything other pairing is sort of in the background.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Un

**Author's Note:**

> I've never tried to write Eremin before so you'll have to forgive if its a little OOC til I get the hang of it. 
> 
> Also punk, trilingual, sassy Jean is my headcannon and no one will stop me. 
> 
> Warning; if you are triggered by any kind of mental illness/hospitals/abuse, do not read this! thats basically the whole thing so itd be kind of painful :/
> 
> enjoy!

The day had started off bad, and gotten progressively worse.

Eren sunk down further in the back of the car, blatantly ignoring his mother's efforts to engage him by jamming his headphones in his ears and turning the volume all the way up. He was already in a foul mood because he'd been woken up at the ass crack of dawn, rushed through breakfast, and halfway through the car ride, realized he'd forgotten several items of clothing that he'd wanted. All that, added to the fact that he was about to be locked up in what he considered to be a prison for six months, was grinding his gears pretty harshly.

_Fuck my parents, fuck the school, fuck this fucking hospital, fuck my life._

Metallica blared angrily in his ears as he glanced out of the window, intense green eyes glaring while the trees whipped by as if reaching for him. Not that this place could possibly be much worse than his shithole of a school, but still. He wouldn't be Eren Jaeger if he didn't dig his heels in.

His brooding was interrupted by his mother tapping his leg insistently. Irritated, he yanked out a headphone and scowled at her. “What?”

She frowned at his tone, but ignored it in favour of saying, “We're almost there. Are you excited?” Carla Jaeger peeked at her son hopefully.

“As a tornado in a fucking trailer park.” That caught his dad's attention. His eyes never left the road, but his grip tightened on the wheel, turning his knuckles white.

“What did you just say, young man?” His sharp tone had no effect on Eren, who just scowled deeper and flicked his bangs back out of his eyes. His mum had harped on at him about cutting it before leaving, but he hadn't listened, a decision he was starting to regret.

Carla put her hand back on Eren's leg comfortingly as their sedan pulled up to the hospital entrance. “We won't embarrass you by coming in, since the paper work is already finished. I'll bring by those clothes you wanted on Sunday, and Eren?” He looked at her. “I love you, honey.”

The brunette struggled not to roll his eyes as he opened the door, yanking his backpack and dufflebag with him. He was just about to swing the door shut when Grisha spoke up, still staring forwards, not once looking at his only child.

“Bye, son.” Eren instantly felt anger start to claw at him. His shit excuse for a father hadn't said more than three sentences to him for the past two weeks, and now he expected them to have some shitty heartfelt goodbye? _Over my dead fucking body_.He slammed the door with way more force than strictly necessary, letting his bag bang against it and vehemently hoping that the zipper would somehow catch and scratch the paint.

“Bye, asshole.” He hissed through the open window. He heard his dad start to call after him as he stalked away, but he just flipped him the bird and kept walking.

**OooOo OoOoO oOoOo**

“E-excuse me?”

“What?” Jean grunted, not bothering to look up from his position in the foyer armchair. He didn't like nosy people. Hopefully this one would get the message and go away.

“Are you here for TITAN?”

Jean's eyes flicked up warily from where the questionnaire in his hand. He was met with- surprisingly- one brown eye looking earnestly, albeit a little nervously, at him. The right one was covered with a patch. Pulling back a little, Jean saw alabaster skin that, unlike his, didn't make it's owner look anemic, dark brown hair that fell evenly over a broad forehead and a light dusting of freckles. The boy was smiling invitingly, which automatically made Jean hate him a little bit.

He grunted again before letting his eyes drop back down to his form. “Maybe. What's it to you?”

The other boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I am too.” Jean's (pierced) left eyebrow went up at this, wondering how such a vanilla kid ended up there, but he didn't comment.

“Would it be alright if I waited for Dr. Zoe with you?”

Jean shrugged carelessly, and the other boy set his bags on the ground in a neat pile before gingerly taking a seat. Jean's concentration fell back to his stupid questionnaire when the kid didn't say anything else.

**Name: Jean Kirschtein**

**How I am feeling today: FUCK OFF**

He worked for a few minutes on a rather grotesquely detailed dick that filled the rest of the page, humming Radiohead quietly.

“So, is it pronounced Gene like Simmons or Jean like Rousseau?” Jean looked up, startled, to see Freckles peering at him with his one eye interestedly. It was kind of weird looking into one eye with two eyes, but hey, he wasn't going to judge. Even though he had no idea why the other boy was making conversation.

“... Yeah, like the philosopher.”

“And wow, that's a doozy of a last name! How's it pronounced?” Jean made a conscious effort not to grind his teeth at the irritating question he got asked at least once a month.

“Keer-shtein. It's German.” Freckles seemed genuinely fascinated by that, trying it out for himself a few times before it flowed off his tongue correctly. Jean fidgeted, wondering when they were going to be let in. A few other kids had gathered in the lobby, but they all sat by themselves, either writing on the questionnaire or staring off into space and pretending they weren't listening to the only source of conversation in the room. One, a short kid with a buzzcut, was tapping his foot against the floor and throwing bits of paper at the receptionist, only to look away innocently whenever she looked up. Realizing that the brunet was still talking, he tuned back in.

“... Anyways, my name is Marco. Marco Bodt!” He smiled warmly again and offered his hand to Jean, who looked at it until it went away. The freckled boy seemed unperturbed by that, and instead just turned back to his own form.

A woman with long brown hair piled into a messy ponytail, glasses, and a lab coat, had just stepped to the front of the room, obviously about to make an announcement, when the front door swung open and smashed into the wall loudly.

Marco jumped as if someone had poked him with a cattle prod, his hand gripping Jean's forearm tightly. A small whimper slipped out of his mouth and he sank down into his seat as if trying to disappear. Annoyed, Jean glanced over to see who it was that caused the disturbance. A tan boy with a scowl that could put Jean's own to shame stood there, fuming. Even from this distance, Jean could tell his eyes were an extremely bright bluish green that stood out from his olive skin. Every person in the room had turned to stare at him, which seemed to only piss him off further.

He mumbled something that sounded like “Sorry.” and Dr. Zoe (because indeed, that's who the doctor at the front of the lobby was) simply raised an eyebrow before saying, “Anyone who's here for the TITAN Program, follow me please. Bring your bags. You can hand in your forms at the door.”

A dozen or so teens rose at this, gathering their bags and trailing after her. After sending one last glare towards the tan boy, Jean turned his hazel gaze back to Marco, who still had a death grip on his arm.

“Hey, are you alright?... Marco?”

The freckled boy seemed to snap out of his reverie at this, releasing his hold on Jean and scrambling to grab his belongings and fall in line with the other teens. Huh.

“Nearly cut my fucking circulation off, _merde_.” He huffed, rubbing his wrist as he hurried to follow after the strange one eyed boy.

**OooOo OoOoO oOoOo**

“Alright, troops, now that we're out of the public eye, I can be more like myself. Pop a squat anywhere you like!” Eren had to resist snorting when he walked into the room. It was typical counselling bullshit, chairs arranged in a circle, each an equal distance apart, so no one would feel left out. He was about to sit down when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He said roughly, turning to see Dr. Zoe grinning widely.

“You were late, so here's your sheet! Fill it out and return it to me on your way out. And next time, try not to make a scene!” She laughed like Eren didn't have bloody murder written all over his face and skipped away. He turned back to find almost every seat taken, the only one left being right between what was obviously Dr. Zoe's seat, and a delicate, almost pretty blond boy with hair that brushed his shoulders who was staring at his feet, a large sketchpad clutched tightly in his hands. _Late again_. Resisting a sigh, he sat down.

Looking around, Eren started to notice how strange the group actually was. A boy with an undercut and a haughty expression was sweeping his chair repeatedly and muttering under his breath. Another, a beefy blond kid who looked like he had steroids for breakfast, was humming quietly with his eyes closed. Not to mention the kid with one eye who had just about shit his pants when Eren had opened the door.

“Now then, kids. First and foremost; You can call me Hanji. Doctor Zoe just sounds way too formal! We're going to be in close proximity for the next half a year, so we might as well be comfy, eh?” When no one said anything, she spurred on. “Anyways, why don't we start with introductions? Say your name and why you're here, as well as anything else you'd like to share. I'll start! I'm Hanji and I'm here because I'm interested to see if we can reduce or even 'cure' a mental illness without the use of medicine. That is to say, in the right conditions, can a brain chemically re-balance itself? This program, as I'm sure you all know, is experimental. If we don't see results in six months, or if too many of you have to be taken out of it, it will be closed down permanently. So let's try and make things work, eh?!” She glanced around as if expected them all to cheer.

No dice on that one. (Half of them were wondering if some psycho had snuck in and pretended to be their doctor for kicks.)

“Well.... anyways, let's move on!” Thankfully, she glanced to her right, meaning Eren would be last instead of first. The unlucky victim was a young woman who looked like she could be Dr. Zoe... er, Hanji's daughter. They had the same hair and half-dazed expression.

“Hiiiii! I'm Sasha, I'm here because I stole my History teacher's wedding ring and pawned it for food money. I like food a lot!” She swung her feet under the chair and smiled happily, like she didn't have a care in the world. Hanji nodded her approval.Next was Stuck Up Sweeper, who had scooted his chair as far away from anyone as it could go without being reprimanded.

“Levi Rivaille. OCD. Also I hate excessive noise, and brats, and especially mess.” His eyes flickered around the room, as if daring anyone to disagree with him. Eren noticed that his fingers were tapping out a steady rhythm on his leg.

“And you're here because...?” Hanji prompted. He glowered but complied.

“I kept breaking into my school after hours to clean, and I left a window open accidentally, and some drunk idiots came by and vandalized everything and stole over 10,000 dollars worth of electrical equipment.”A low whistle came from Buzzcut, which Levi seemed to take offence over, but didn't say anything. Everyone looked at the kid to his right, a beanpole of a kid who seemed incredibly nervous and was sweating buckets.

“Uhh... B-Bertholdt. I came here because I can never focus on schoolwork at school, with all the people, and noises, and questions...” He fidgeted uncomfortably and stared at his knees. _Well, talking definitely isn't one of his strong points_ , thought Eren.

“Hi there, I'm Christa.” The girl speaking looked like an angel. A soft halo of blonde hair surrounded her, and her blue eyes shone with innocence. “I'd rather not say what I did to get in here, but I have Multiple Personality Disorder. My other personality is Historia, and she doesn't come out much. Mostly she just says things to me.” She frowned, but quickly brightened up again. “Oh, and if any of you ever want to talk about anything, I'd be more than happy to listen!” She smiled invitingly, momentarily captivating at least half the group with her adorable charm.

“I guess I'm next.” Mused the girl to her right. The way she sat, leaning back with her legs kicked out in front of her like she owned the room, pissed Eren off.

“The name's Ymir. Don't pronounce it wrong. I'm here because I'm better than all of you. Or, as the doctors like to call it, NPD. Narcissistic Personality Disorder. That's all you need to know and all you ever will know about me.” All of this was said while she stared at her fingernails in a bored manner. Eren could tell off the bat he wasn't going to get along with her, and made a mental note to avoid her.

“Hi! I'm Connie. I have Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, aka, ADHD. If you don't know what that means, it's basically like, I can't stay focused for a long time, and I don't have that great of a mental filter, so I apologize in advance if I say something that sets you off! Oh, and I'm here because I'm trying to get better and I can't focus at school.” He grinned widely at Bertholdt, obviously hoping they could bond over their similar issues, but the taller kid just awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and looked away. Sasha, however, was smiling at him.

_Ugh. Annoying._

Next to Connie was Hummer. He didn't seem to realize it was his turn, so Connie nudged him in the ribs. His eyes popped open and he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry. My name is Reiner. Before anyone asks, I'm not here because of a steroid problem.” A few people chuckled. “I have schizophrenia. I'm humming because it helps me focus and drown out the voices. I'm here because I had an episode, and yeah. I'm always down to chill and listen if you need to vent.” Contrary to Eren's original appraisal of him, the large blonde seemed like one of the most friendly (if straightforward) people in the room.

Eren glanced at the next person, and had to do a double take. The guy couldn't be more than 17, but he had so many holes in his body, Eren was surprised he wasn't creating a draft. He had an eyebrow piercing, a nose ring, and tons of metal in his ears, including a long bar that stretched across the top of his right ear.

“Do I have to do this cookie cutter intro bullshit?” He demanded, glowering at Hanji. She didn't so much as bat an eyelash, waiting for him to participate. He let out a loud and overly drawn out sigh before spitting out. “Jean Kirschtein. Intermittent Explosive Disorder. It sounds like what it is. I'm here because I sent a kid to the hospital.”

“Why?” Piped up Connie, not even remotely screening his interest. Eren rolled his eyes, but had to admit he was a little interested too.So far, this Jean guy was closest to Eren's own problems.

His scowl deepened even further, if that were possible, before saying, “He called me a fag because of my piercings.” He proceeded to glare at everyone menacingly before slouching back into his chair and staring at the ceiling.

Beside him was the kid with one eye who looked like his purpose in life was to spread joy to small children. “Hi! My name is Marco. I have depression and PTSD. I'd love to get to know anyone here.” He smiled, a little nervously, but Eren could tell he had a good heart. He was the kind of person who was everyone's friend. The selfless caretaker.Just as the next person, a stone cold blonde, was about to say something, Ymir spoke.

“What happened to your face?” Her tone was rude and invasive, but she didn't seem to care.

The tension in the room thickened as everyone looked at Marco, who looked at the floor, a frown tugging on his lips. “I-I... I don't really want to talk about it.”

“Oh, come on!” This from Connie, who was leaning forward animatedly. “We'll find out eventually!”

Marco's eye was burning a hole in the floor, a nervous flush staining his cheeks.

“B-but I-I-I... I do-”

“He said he didn't want to talk about it, so drop it, you _fils de pute_!” Jean snapped angrily from beside him. Levi scoffed derisively and Jean turned on him, rage rising quickly.

“What's your problem then, Mr. Clean?”

“ _Excusez-moi? Vas te faire encule_!”

“ _Ta gueule_!” Levi's eyes widened and his mouth curled into a snarl, and spouted off a fast stream of angry French, which Jean returned just as quickly. Everyone was watching them verbally duke it out, even Hanji. She didn't seem at all inclined to stop them, so Eren decided to step in, because Jean was looking pretty close to breaking Levi's nose. (Marco had slumped down so far in his seat he was basically laying in it, hands covering his face in embarrassment.)

Stepping between them, he said, “Listen, _sie fotzen_ ,no one else wants to hear your stupid fucking argument so sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders and shoved, forcing them away from each other. Levi scowled and immediately started brushing where Eren had touched him. Jean turned angry golden eyes on him.

“Don't fucking touch me, _arschloch_.”He bit out before stomping back to his seat.

 _Wow, he knows French and German, what a pretentious fuck_. Eren only knew enough to make passing conversation and a few swear words, seeing as his dad was too much of a twat to teach him properly. Hanji clapped her hands, glasses gleaming.

“Alright, let's get back into it. You are...?”

“Annie. I made a girl have a nervous breakdown and try to commit suicide.” If Christa was a blonde angel, this girl was her demon counterpart. They shared looks, but nothing more. Christa was bright and friendly, whereas Annie had a dead gaze and her tone was completely flat. _She obviously doesn't care who her actions affect. Sociopath..?_ Eren mused to himself, and almost didn't catch the words of the soft-spoken Japanese girl sitting on the other side of Blondie.

“My name is Mikasa. I have... extreme paranoia. I don't feel comfortable saying anything else about myself.” She stared at a spot over Reiner's shoulder the whole time she spoke, her gaze far away. Eren thought she was pretty in a stoic kind of way, with hard charcoal eyes and an edgy haircut that brushed her shoulders. Everyone just kinda stared until Hanji spoke up.

“Moving on...” She looked at the kid sitting beside Eren, who was scribbling furiously in his sketchbook, before passing it around the circle. When it finally reached Eren, he read it with interest.

**_My name is Armin. I'm here because I can't speak, or rather, I don't want to, and that makes it so I can't. It's psycho-semantic. Also I have a combination of Antisocial and Avoidant Personality Disorders. And I like to read._ **

His script was neat and flowing, Eren noted as he passed the book back. He wondered what kind of books Armin read, before realizing it was his turn.

“Oh shit, uhm... I'm Eren, here because I have Type One Bipolar Disorder and I had an episode at school and kicked the fuck out of someone. Yeah.” He flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked around, hoping that was sufficient. Besides receiving an angry glare from Jean, everyone seemed disinterested. Hanji stood up abruptly, stretching her arms over her head before walking away.

“Well, I think that about covers it for now. Schedules will be posted tomorrow, although I imagine study hall won't be interesting for the first few days, until your schoolwork starts to come in. Don't forget to sign up for the streams you want. Oh, and the only rules here are; don't leave the ward without permission, don't have unprotected sex, don't bring in drugs or weapons, lights out is at 11, and if you harm another patient in any way, you'll be sent to the psych ward immediately and put on medication. The cafeteria is just down the hall and to your left!” She yelled as swept out of the room. Then her head popped in just as quickly.

“Oh, and if you have an emergency, press the button on the wall of your ward and someone will come.”

And with that, she was gone. Everyone started to get up, mostly silent except for Connie and Sasha, who were already chattering away at each other about food. Eren snorted. _Figures_. Looking to his left, he noticed that Armin was still sitting in his chair, biting his lip and burning a hole in the floor.

“Armin?” The boy looked up, startled at being addressed.

“Do you want to sit with me at dinner?” Eren rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn't good at making friends, and yet he couldn't help but reach out to the withdrawn kid beside him. He wrote something down quickly and showed it to Eren.

_**But we can't talk (easily). Won't you be bored?** _

Eren smiled and handed it back to him, “Nah, I've got a pretty big mouth, so I can talk while you listen?” He offered tentatively, not sure how the other boy would feel about having to suffer through Eren's one sided conversation. To his surprise, the blond bit his lip before nodding, a shy smile crossing his face. Eren grinned back, and they left the room together.

**OooOo OoOoO oOoOo**


	2. Deux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things: 1. Someone said my German was wrong, which is totally understandable, because google translate is iffy at best. If you notice any mistakes, please send the corrections and I'll be more than happy to adjust it (:  
> 2\. I know I told someone I would update like 3 days ago in the comments, but then I bought a new laptop and I've been switching all my stuff over, so I've been distracted. All good now! Official update day will probably be Wednesday, but if I get it done before, well, *shrugs*  
> 3\. If anyone is an artist and wants to do fan art of this (even tho probably no one does because my writing is pretty garbage), PLEASE GO AHEAD. ALSO PLEASE COMMENT/MESSAGE A LINK BECAUSE I WOULD BE REALLY FUCKING EXCITED OVER THAT.  
> 4\. my tumblr is fire-within-me.tumblr.com if you wanna come over and fangirl with me. please. i dont have any friends that watch snk sooooo if youre feeling bored come bother me :3  
> enjoy this chapter!

“So, Armin, what kind of books do you like?” Eren drawled, looking over his shoulder at the smaller boy as they stood in line. Their cafeteria was shared with the other ward on that floor, a terminal cancer ward for young adults. Many of them had IV drips rolling after them, and only one or two seemed to be eating. _Basically, just a lot of bald people. Connie fits right in_. He blinked as words were shoved in front of him.

**_It sounds weird, but I like nonfiction. Anything to do with nature will hold my interest. Especially if it's something living. For fiction, mystery is my forte. I find it... compelling to figure out who the culprit is. It's nice to escape for a little while._ **

“Nah, it's not weird. You like what you like. No need to explain yourself to me.” He missed Armin's bashful smile as he turned back around to choose his food. All patients got to choose between “Meal A” and “Meal B”. It reminded Eren of his high school, which was almost never a good thing, but at least they got a choice.

“Yeah, I'll take the spaghetti and meatballs.” As he moved down to place a glass of milk on his tray and Armin wrote down his meal choice, blushing, Eren glanced around the room, bright eyes searching for two empty spaces. Spotting an empty table in the corner, he grabbed Armin's wrist and dragged him off without so much as a “thank-you” to the server (an odd man whose name tag said “Mike”- he'd snuffled the air suspiciously several times throughout the course of their miniscule interaction.) He plopped down at the table unceremoniously and dug in, not realizing how hungry he'd been until the smell of food was under his nose. Eren slowed down slightly as the initial I-need-to-eat-everything-right-freaking-now phase passed, eyes flicking around the room.

Bertholdt and Reiner were at the front of the line, a dark flush spreading across Bertholdt's face as he whispered in Reiner's ear, who then relayed the message to Mike before clapping his companion on the back (which almost knocked him off his feet), his booming laugh heard over the chatter of the teens. Connie and Sasha were alternating between flicking food off their utensils at each other, and trying to shove it in each other's mouths, which with pasta, was a little on the difficult side. Across the room, Levi was glaring daggers at the mess gathering around the two, hands twitching as if yearning to reach out to the mess. He was alone except for Mikasa, who sat at the other end and on the opposite side of the table, ignoring everyone and picking delicately at her food. Annie sat alone, her foul mood tangible in the air. _I wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole. She's a whole other level of “fuck off”_. He zoned back in to his current situation when Armin's notebook was pushed tentatively towards him. An arrow pointed at their earlier conversation, and written neatly beneath, complete with a little happy face:

_**What about you?** _

“Hmmm,” mused Eren, “I'm not a huge reader, but, I like... action, I guess? Fantasy is nice, I enjoyed Lord Of The Rings. I wanted to be Frodo so badly after I read the series. Even tried to walk around barefoot like a bonafide hobbit until I stepped on a rusty nail and had to get a tetanus shot from my dad.” He smirked at the memory. His dad had been pissed, and Eren, who hated needles, had accidentally kneed him in the face and given him a black eye while trying to get away. Armin was smiling bemusedly at Eren's words, clearly finding the story funny.

_**I'm guessing your father is some sort of medical professional?** _

“Yep.” Eren popped the p. “Private doctor. He's out of town a lot. What do your parents do?”Armin's eyes widened and he seemed to withdraw, shoulders hunching over his already tiny frame as if to make himself disappear, eyes trained on the table as he fiddled with the remainder of his food.

“It's alright,” Eren shrugged, “you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” He stood up, grabbing both his and Armin's empty trays.

“D'you wanna go and find that asinine sign up thingy?” Armin's cornflower blue eyes flashed up to his and the blond nodded, clearly grateful about the subject change. They left the cafeteria to the sound of Sasha begging Mike for seconds, to which he was adamantly refusing. Just outside was a corkboard filled with various sign up sheets and lists. “Schedule” was the first thing that caught the brunet's eye, so he pulled the bundle of sheets off the wall and rifled through until he saw his name.

**Eren Jaeger**

**9am** : Breakfast

 **10am:** Athletics

 **11am** : Stream #1

 **12:30pm** : Lunch

 **1:15pm** : Stream #2

 **2:45pm** : Free Time or Counselling

 **6pm** : Dinner

 **7pm** : Stream #3 or Free Time

 **10pm** : Round Up

 **11pm** : Final Lights Out

 **Your counselling session is scheduled for:** Tuesday/Thursday at 3pm

**Please note: Group sessions are held every Friday. Participation mandatory.**

**Don't forget to sign up for your streams!**

Eren groaned internally. _It's like freaking boot camp here. Scheduled activities, meal times, and we have to share our feelings once a week? Lame_. He looked up when Armin nudged him and pointed to a different spot on the board. Under “Room Assignments”, his name was printed next to Armin's in Room 104.

“Hey, well, that's not too bad. At least I know I won't be woken up by you talking in your sleep.” He grinned down at Armin, who didn't seem offended at the joke. He offered a small smile in return as he pulled out his own schedule. Scanning it quickly, the blond's attention swung back to the message board as he signed up for activities in his flowing script. Borrowing his pen, Eren went through his options. He penned his name under “Kitchen”, “Art”, and “Music”. He smiled when he saw that Armin had also picked Art, but it quickly dropped to a scowl when he saw that that pretentious fuck Jean had chosen not only Art, but also Music at the same time as him. _How annoying_. Armin pulled a floor map from the board and, after a moment's hesitation, gently grabbed Eren's elbow and tugged him down the hallway.

**OooOo OoOoO oOoOo**

Their room really wasn't that bad, all things considered. Two decent looking beds, a shared bathroom (Eren was just happy it wasn't communal, because, well, _ew_ ) and a dresser for each of them. Luckily, Hanji was cool with them bringing their own clothes, instead of forcing them into hospice wear. Eren smiled faintly when he pulled out his drum sticks. His mom had told him not to bring them, but they felt like home, and he'd snuck them into his bag the night before. He placed them on top of his dresser carefully, before turning and flopping down on the bed. Hanji had allowed iPods as long as they didn't leave their rooms, so Eren gladly took the opportunity to jam out for a bit before bed. Armin was already in bed, a huge book propped up in front of him (101 Interesting Creatures and Where To Find Them) so Eren eagerly jammed both headphones in.

3 songs later, there was a vicious pounding on the door that could, in some savage culture, be construed as knocking, before Hanji burst in, glasses eschew. Armin jumped about a foot in the air and Eren pulled one headphone out curiously.

“Just wanted to make sure you were all settled! It's lights out now, so try and get some rest. Long day tomorrow! If you wake up earlier than 9, please stay in your room, okay?!” Eren nodded and Armin gave a thumbs up. Eren glanced at him, and had to double take when he noticed Armin had glasses perched precariously his nose. They were surprisingly... cute, on him. He was so distracted he almost didn't hear Hanji yelling goodnight and slamming the door so hard it almost came off the hinges. Almost. It was hard to not hear Hanji.

OooOo OoOoO oOoOo 

“Jean...? Jean, wake up.”

Jean groaned and opened one eye blearily to see one eye staring back at him, a hand resting on his shoulder lightly, causing warmth to spread out from his shoulder. Marco peered down at him earnestly.

“It's 8:30, I didn't know how much time you wanted to get ready before breakfast.” Moaning again, the tawny haired boy dragged himself out of bed and shuffled over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of black jeans and his favourite band t-shirt before shuffling over to the bathroom. He listened to Marco chatter aimlessly through the door as he got ready, the sound oddly soothing, and emerged fifteen minutes later feeling slightly more alive. And promptly did a double take.

Marco was standing with his back to Jean, bent over, rummaging in his bottom drawer for something. Jean was seriously reconsidering his previous condemnation of khaki pants because damn. Marco, of course, chose that moment to straighten up and turn back around, catching Jean red handed (red eyed?).

“Is there something on my pants?” He asked Jean, dusting them worriedly. “I'm pretty sure I washed them before I left.” Jean could feel his face turning red and prayed that the floor would somehow miraculously swallow him up.

_Get ahold of yourself, idiot, it's just a butt._

_A very nice butt,_ his dark side argued back.

_Shut the fuck up, you've known him less than a day, the booty is NOT on duty._

_Shit, say something Kirschtein, he's speaking words at you._

Clearing his throat, he muttered, “Nah, green is just a good colour on you.” Before swinging the door open and stomping out, embarrassment having turned to irritation. Marco tugged at the sleeve of his forest green pullover self-consciously, a small smile gracing his lips before he followed his roommate.

The first thing Jean noticed when he opened his door was the crowd of kids gathered at the end of the hall. Wandering over with Marco trailing behind him, he quickly grasped what was happening. Two kids were fighting.

** OooOo OoOoO oOoOo  **

Annie held Sasha against the wall by her throat with one hand, the other curled into a fist that hovered threateningly. She seemed to be in complete control of the situation, despite the difference in stature. Sasha's feet were still on the ground, so she wasn't quite being strangled, but Annie's grip on her jugular was by no means gentle. Annie was leaning aggressively into her face, and Sasha's head was craned at an awkward angle, trying to get away from the intense girl.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Let her go!” Eren yelled as he ran towards them, grabbing the blonde's arm and trying to pull it away, to no avail. Annie had locked on to her target, and wasn't letting go anytime soon. Her mouth was curled down in an angry snarl, but her eyes were cold and flat. Annie ignored him completely, and Sasha was progressively turning more and more red as her air flow was cut off. Eren looked around wildly at the crowd of teens that had gathered around the pair. “Someone help me!”

Connie was already hanging (literally) off Annie's other arm, yelling profanities in her ear, which she was ignoring. Mikasa and Levi stood impassively, watching, neither willing to get involved. Reiner, who, in Eren's opinion, was the only one who had the muscle to remove Annie, had his eyes squeezed shut and was humming loudly. Bertholdt just looked petrified. And, of course, Ymir was leaning against the wall, casual as hell, watching the scene play out and making no move to intervene. _So, in short, I'm alone_ , Eren thought, before redoubling his efforts on Annie's arm, digging his nails into the flesh and yanking. Sasha was now gasping for breath, her feet kicking at Annie weakly as the other girl's grip tightened steadily. Just as Eren was about to run for the emergency button, the door at the opposite end of the corridor swung open, revealing a very angry Hanji and a very worried Christa.

Annie glanced over at Hanji and seemed to make a decision. “If you touch anything of mine again, I'll cut your fingers off one by one and feed them to you.” Annie said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion, before she released her hold on Sasha and stepped back, brushing Connie and Eren off like flies. The taller girl slumped back against the wall, gasping audibly, struggling to pull air into her lungs. Hanji reached them just as Jean and Marco appeared in the hallway. The doctor's usual playful demeanour was gone, leaving behind a... surprisingly frightening professional attitude.

“Annie Leonhardt, come with me please. Everyone else, proceed to the cafeteria as you normally would. Sasha, if you're still having trouble breathing by lunch time, see me. Dismissed.” She turned, lab coat swishing out behind her, and strode off down the hallway. After a moment's hesitation, Annie followed. Her cold blue eyes met with Eren's in passing, and he thought he saw something other than anger and emptiness in them. Fear.

“Well,” Ymir drawled, pushing herself off the wall and strutting off towards the cafeteria, “Wasn't that a shit show and a half?”

** oOoOo OoOoO oOoOo  **

Jean dragged himself behind Marco towards the cafeteria, every step a battle. He hated Mondays. It didn't matter that the days of the week meant basically nothing here. Mondays were Mondays. He shuffled grouchily into line to get food, tuning out Marco's quiet monologue as he plunked himself down at a table, his tray pushed aside in favour of resting his head on the hard plastic. Only when Marco said his name loudly (which was practically shouting for the skittish boy) did he look up.

“Huh?” He grunted. Marco smiled a little, one corner of his mouth tugging up as he repeated his question.

“Are you okay? You look a little...” He made a gesture that Jean interpreted as “You look like death warmed over but I'm a freckled Jesus so I'm trying to be polite”. Groaning, the tawny haired boy pulled himself up and picked at his toast miserably.

“Coffee, Marco. I need coffee.” Just thinking about the warm, rich drink made Jean's mouth water. Coffee, because it had copious amounts of caffeine in it, was outlawed in their ward. Hanji apparently considered that enough of a “drug” that she didn't want to risk screwing up the program by letting the teens have it. This had almost been a deal breaker for the surly teen.

“Oh.” Marco ran a hand through his hair, mussing the part slightly, before rubbing the back of his neck in a shy sort of manor. Jean had to hold back thoughts of how adorable it was because _no, it's still to early for this_.

“Maybe eat an apple? I heard that has caffeine in it...” Just as Jean was about to tell Marco exactly where he could stuff his apple, cuteness be damned, a foot kicked his chair roughly. Scowling something fierce, Jean looked up to see Mr. Righteousness himself standing with his arms crossed like Jean owed him something, Blondie tucked behind him. Marco glanced up too, his face flushing red and chocolate brown eye staring a hole in the table at the arrival of other human life forms.

“It's too early for me to fight right now, come back in 20 minutes.” His voice was so flat it left no room for comment. Seriously, Jean needed coffee.

“What do you think happened to that crazy bitch?” Eren asked as he plopped himself down, rather rudely in Jean's opinion, at their table. Marco shrank back even more as the outgoing boy's tray clattered loudly beside him, which made Jean even more irritated.

_Can't you see he's shy and triggered by loud noises?! That's twice now. Three strikes and we're gonna have a serious problem, bud._

“Um, I don't know? I didn't even see the majority of it. Why are you asking me anyways?” Jean groused, still focused on the way Marco seemed to have folded in on himself, despite being bigger than anyone else at their table. Eren shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just don't want the same thing to happen to me because you opened your big mouth and started shit.”

Jean snorted derisively. “I'm not the one who jumps into every situation and tries to be a hero. Maybe you should mind your own business and you wouldn't get in trouble! Jesus you're...” The two boys continued to argue as Armin gracefully slid into the seat across from Marco, notepad tucked under his arm. Marco continued to stare at the table, his hand shaking as he raised a forkful of eggs to his mouth, looking like was about to throw up.

_**Your depth perception doesn't look at all affected.** _

Armin slid the book over to him, watching as his eye traced over the words before he swallowed and made eye contact with Armin for the first time, smiling shyly at the tiny blond.

“Uh, y-yeah... It was at first, but I kinda just... adapted? I can't do really physical or coordinated things all that fast, like skipping rope, but I'm pretty adjusted otherwise. You get used to the lack of depth perception with time, and work around it.” Marco smiled properly at a memory. “You have no idea how many times I spilled a drink on myself right after it happened. I drank out of a straw for like two months!” He laughed, surprising himself and startling Eren and Jean out of their spat. Three pairs of eyes watched him wordlessly. Instantly, Marco's red tint bloomed into a full blush, rushing across his cheeks and down his neck as he cleared his throat nervously.

“Jesus, I think that's the most I've heard you say at once.” Jean said, crooked grin tugging at his mouth. Eren continued to gape like a jackass, and Armin hid a victorious grin behind a glass of orange juice.

“I'm glad you think of me as your saviour, but actually my name is Marco. One would think you'd have figured that out by now.” And that was it. All four boys erupted into raucous laughter (Armin's laugh was more of a rasping cough, but a laugh nonetheless) and the tension at the table dissolved as the four finished their breakfast.

** OooOo OoOoO oOoOo  **

“Alright, troops!” Hanji announced, hands clasped behind her back as she spoke to the teens. Annie had not made a reappearance throughout breakfast, and Eren didn't see her anywhere now, either. “This is Athletics. Basically, exercise makes your brains happy, so for an hour each day, you're being released into The Great Unknown. And by Great Unknown, I mean the forest of giant ass trees behind the hospital. Make sure you're back here in an hour, or we'll have to look for you.” Christa raised her hand timidly, and Hanji nodded at her.

“What if we get lost?” She asked timidly. Before Hanji could reply, Ymir interjected.

“Don't worry, I'll protect you.” She assured, grinning and slinging a tanned arm over the shorter girl's slim shoulders. Hanji raised an eyebrow, but said only that the forest was fenced in a half circle around the hospital, so if they kept walking they would eventually reach the gate, and then could walk along it until they reached the hospital again.

“But,” Hanji added, glasses glinting, “it takes about 2 and a half hours to walk from the fence end to end, so that's probably not in your best interest. Well, off you go!” She opened the fire exit doors and everyone trailed out, still half unsure what the point was.

“Wait.” Eren said rudely, cutting in front of Jean where he was about to ask Hanji something. “Can I get my iPod?”

“I'd like something from my room too.” Jean said, casting a withering glance at Eren, the camaraderie from earlier long gone.

“Sure! Just go together and come back together so I know you're not sneaking off. I'll wait here for you to get back!” She grinned and shooed them off down the hallway. _What a strange woman_ , Eren thought. The pair walked shoulder to shoulder in silence until Jean started to feel awkward. He glanced down at Eren, who was staring straight ahead in a way that made it obvious he was trying not to look at Jean. Sighing inwardly, Jean opened his mouth.

“So... Metallica. Lars Ulrich is a pretty good drummer.” He said, taking note of Eren's shirt. Eren's intense eye's flickered over to his, hesitating slightly before answering.

“Lars is the shit, man. Radiohead isn't bad either, heard you humming The Pyramid Song at breakfast this morning. Selway is kinda... Meh, though.” Jean stopped, outraged, and Eren glanced back at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“Um, excuse you! Selway is a perfectly adequate drummer, I'd like to see you do better!” Eren's smirk stretched into a full blown grin as he turned and continued down the hallway.

“Fine, you're on. You can watch me do better, in Music tonight.” Jean watched him go, snorting as the darker brunette swung his door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

“Yeah, alright, _dummkopf_. Try me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Armin always saves the day by knowing just the right thing to say.
> 
> dummkopf = idiot in German
> 
> hope this wasnt too bad, sorry annie had to go! also
> 
> THE BOOTY IS NOT ON DUTY JEAN
> 
> i regret nothing
> 
> leave a review if it pleases you :3


	3. Trois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I HAVENT UPDATED AND I KNOW THIS IS SHORT, IM SORRY  
> dealing with shit right now but I tried to at least finish this part because I felt bad  
> I /will/ continue this. I have it planned, dont worry! Im so sorrrryyyyyyyyyy

Jean leaned against the trunk of the tree, gazing out into the horizon in front of him. The sun was just peeking over the hospital, giving the sky the most vibrant shade of blue you could only catch in the mornings. Jean was about 8 feet up, having scampered up a tree to draw instead of walking around “exercising” like everyone else. Balanced on his lap was a thin but heavily worn down sketchbook, and his right hand was curled around a graphite pencil. His hand moved fluidly across the page as he took in the view, not needing to look at it as he drew. Instead, he pondered his time at the facility so far. Mostly, he pondered Marco. The kid seemed to be opening up to him, and to be honest, it was... nice. People in the real world had always avoided Jean based on the rumours that preceded him. Marco, despite seeming like a withdrawn and introverted person, had somehow blown past Jean's attitude issues and seemed to genuinely like him. And if Jean was being honest with himself, he quite liked the one eyed boy too. Glancing down at the grassy ground below, he almost snorted at the irony. _Speak of the devil, or in this case, angel, and he shall appear_.

Marco was wandering around below him. The freckled boy was walking slowly, seemingly lost in thought as he went from tree to tree, hand brushing along the bark as if he could understand it better by feeling it's ridges and indents. His sweater sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing pale-but-freckled forearms. Jean wondered absentmindedly where else the taller boy may have freckles.

“Hey, Freckles!” Jean called, snickering when the other boy jumped about a mile in the air, glancing around frantically. “Up here, ya goof.” Marco spotted him and smiled warmly, which did funny things to Jean's stomach.

“What're you doing up there?” Marco asked curiously, amber eye reflecting the sun just right, turning it the color of sunlight through whiskey. As he asked, he tugged both of his sleeves down. The action didn't go unnoticed by Jean, but he decided against saying anything just yet.

“I'm drawing. Here.” He answered, tossing the sketchbook down to Marco, who caught it, surprise written across his features. Jean leaned back slightly, then swung forward, kicking his legs out and landing squarely on the balls of his feet. _Easy peasy_.

“Can I... Can I look at it?” Marco asked hopefully, looking at Jean earnestly. Jean resisted the urge to snort and roll his eyes. There was something exasperating about Marco's honest personality. Like, how was someone actually that good of a person? It was a mystery to Jean.

“That would be why I gave it to you.”

“Oh, r-right.” Marco blushed a little and opened the book eagerly, turning the pages with the utmost care and making little “ooh” and “wow” noises. “Jean, these are really great! Seriously.” Jean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not used to praise about his art. Mostly people just asked if he could draw them something.

“Thanks, they're really nothing special though. I have a proper portfolio at home.” Feeling awkward just standing there, he slid down the bark of the tree until he was sitting on the ground, Marco handed him back the sketchbook and sat down against a tree opposite to him. Jean couldn't help but notice how nice of a picture Marco made, forest green sweater melting into the foliage of the background, dark hair standing out against the bark of the tree. Almost subconsciously, he opened his sketchbook and started to draw, hand moving across the page in short, quick strokes.

“So, what do you think of this shithole so far?” Jean asked, his eyes on Marco. The other teen rubbed nervously at his wrists, thinking before answering.

“It seems pretty good, to be honest. I mean, I'm not really sure what happened this morning, but... This is a lot better than my alternative, at least. Dr. Zoe seems nice too, even though she's kind of weird.” Marco said sheepishly. Jean snorted.

“No kidding. I guess it's worth sticking around for a bit though. You're right, it's better than the alternative. Doesn't seem like that Annie chick is gonna come back. We only get one chance, or whatever.” Marco hummed thoughtfully, but said nothing in reply. The pair sat quietly for a few more minutes, the sun continuing to rise and filter light down through the trees. Jean continued to sketch, and Marco just stared off into the bushes, seemingly lost in thought.

 _He seems so nervous, it's probably better not to question him, but.. I'd bet my last dollar that there's a reason he keeps his sleeves down all the time. Poor kid, he must be dying in this heat._ Jean couldn't help but feel sympathetic for the kid (among other things, ahem). I wonder how he got this way... _Must've been some pretty bad shit, for him to get PTSD. And yet, he still seems pretty cheerful._

Just as Jean was about to bite the bullet and ask Marco how he got here, something exploded out of the bushes. Marco flinched, knocking his head against the tree he was leaning against as that “thing” revealed itself to be Sasha, running wildly between the two boys. Not ten seconds later, Connie burst after her, screaming, “I'm gonna get you!” as he narrowly missed Jean.

"Watch where you're going, idiots!" Jean snapped after them, irritated. He huffed, and turned to Marco. “Are you alright?” He asked, noticing that Marco was still rubbing at his head and squinting.

“I... I think so.” Marco said, frowning slightly. “I can't tell if there's a lump or not, because it hurts.”

“Here.”Jean moved his sketchbook before he crawled over and knelt next to the brunet. He brought his hands up to Marco's head and running his fingers over dark hair softly, slowly, feeling for a bump. Jean felt Marco take a sharp breath, but from pain or something else, he wasn't sure.

“It seems fine.” Jean said, voice cracking a bit on the last syllable. Marco's hair was really soft, and his head was warm. Jean felt himself wanting to card his fingers through it, feel it fully. Swallowing, he pulled away, hoping he wasn't flushed. _God, get it together, you jackass. It's just hair. Jesus._

“We should get back.” Marco said, standing up and brushing off his pants. His face was flushed and he was looking anywhere but at the tawny haired boy. Jean grinned slightly before turning to grab his sketchbook. He felt a blush stealing over his cheeks to match the other boy's as he realized what he'd drawn. It was Marco leaning against the tree, sunlight making a pattern over his clothes, smiling earnestly. But in place of his missing eye, Jean had drawn a trail of peonies. It was... beautiful, Jean thought faintly. He felt Marco's presence over his shoulder and hastily tried to shut his book, noticing that he'd come to a full stop and had been staring wordlessly, but Marco stopped him.

“I... Wow.” Marco said quietly, his one eye drawn to the page. Jean swallowed, hoping he hadn't made the nervous teen hate him. _I never asked if it was okay to draw him, fuck. He's probably so mad._ But Marco didn't look mad. He looked... Happy. Jean ripped the page out and thrust it at Marco, embarrassed.

“Sorry. Here, keep it.” He said gruffly, blush deepening as he stomped back to the hospital. _Merde, I'm in trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Bad? Terrible? Y'all still hate me?   
> Shitfuck. Merde = shit.  
> if ya wanna rant or fangirl at me, feel more than free to! my tumblr is: yourmajestea . tumblr . com (just delete the spaces, heh)  
> also if you do fanart of this (not that i think anyone will because im super fucking lame) pleaaaaaaaase let me know so i can freak out and thank you profusely and link it!


End file.
